A Momentary Lapse
by plainjane
Summary: COMPLETE, oneshot CG fic. So somehow I find myself outside her door...


In my mind, this was just going to be a short, little, one-shot fic.  Somehow it ended up being eight pages…  anyways, I'm not sure how much I like the ending, so that may change.  But let me know what you think. 

Partially inspired by the Gin Blossoms song "Hey Jealousy".

    The party started out with good intentions.

    Maybe not the best intentions, and definitely not the most honorable intentions, but with nearly four hundred bored high schoolers, that's about all you can expect.

    At Eden Hall, the last day of school before summer is just one big excuse to party.  Sure, we all do the typical good-prep-students-go-to-class routine, even on the last day, but as soon as the last bell rings on that last day, all hell breaks loose.

    Most of us weren't moving out of our dorms until Saturday or Sunday, which gave us one more whole day of complete freedom before having to go home and face the prospects of a summer full of parents and siblings and jobs and responsibilities.  So, of course, the only reasonable thing to do is party.

    Apparently this whole thing is an Eden Hall tradition.  I know I've made myself perfectly clear on what I think about Eden Hall's so-called "traditions", but this one, I couldn't resist.  We've all been going since our freshman year and nothing completely catastrophic has happened.  So, of course, having just finished our junior year, it was our duty as the soon to be oldest kids in the school to uphold this fine tradition.

    It always starts the same.  Classes on the last day of school end and the entire school, or most of it, makes their way to the woods that border the Eden Hall grounds.  Because there's so many of us, we all have to take different routes in order to avoid prying adult eyes.  The underclassmen without cars cut through the campus and into the woods and the rest of us drive off campus and park in different areas and hike to the giant clearing, completely hidden from the campus and all the major roads.  

    It starts out pretty low key.  Someone usually brings speakers and hooks them up to a car so we have music.  Another group builds a bonfire in the pit built for the purpose and everyone breaks out food.  So we eat and talk and laugh and dance for a while, elated to be free from the confines of Eden Hall's overbearing rules.

    However, when it gets dark, the whole atmosphere changes.  I don't know where they get it, but several groups always show up with substantial amounts of alcohol and then the party really begins.

    Every year something note-worthy happens to help separate one year from another.  Each year has its share of semi-memorable fights, hook ups, and break ups, but each year one event defines the entire party.  Freshman year was the demise of the Varsity hockey team.  Apparently, the team wasn't as tight as they appeared and the combination of fire and adrenaline and large quantities of alcohol didn't help the situation.  It wasn't pretty either; a couple of the younger players, including the second string goalie, tried to take on Scooter for some dumb reason or another and Rick and Cole got in a massive brawl after Rick insulted Cole repeatedly for about twenty minutes and Cole couldn't figure out what he was saying, resulting in three broken arms, a set of cracked ribs and numerous black eyes and bloody knuckles.  Wasn't much fun for the Varsity guys, but it was amusing as hell for the rest of the school.

    Sophomore year's big event was the unexpected hook up of Fulton and Portman and the chaos it caused.  It wasn't quite a big deal for the Ducks, since we were expecting it, but it gave the rest of the school a jolt.  Some of the more moronic seniors decided to give them a hard time about it, so after the initial hooking up, there was a fight.  It was a pretty good one too, since all us Ducks ended up in it.  You can't rag on a Duck without getting yourself into trouble, plus several of us were on an end of year high and were willing to pound the shit out of anyone at that point.  I remember thoroughly enjoying beating the tar out of a senior named Chris who had dated Connie during freshman year and had called the Bash Brothers – well, I won't repeat what he said, but it wasn't pretty.  And I was way impressed with Ken who also seemed to enjoy pounding on some guy twice his size.  Even Connie and Julie got in some good hits.  This fight ended better than the previous one; there were no broken bones, just lots of blood and bruises.

    But somehow this year, things got out of hand.  

    It started out fairly normal, I guess.  And as usual, when it got dark, things got interesting.  The major hook up of the party happened between Nicole Anderson, the girl I went to the Junior/Senior Prom with, and Keith Kennedy, Connie's boyfriend of three months.  It didn't bother me at all; Nicole was nice enough I guess, but after six hours in a too small ballroom at the Minnesota Club for Prom, she really started to grate on my nerves.  And I was looking forward to seeing Connie scream and yell and beat the shit out of Keith.

    But it didn't happen that way.

    It was the look on Connie's face that really got to me.  She didn't look livid or furious like I'd expected.  And she didn't yell at Keith or get in a fight with Nicole or any of the things I expected her to do.  She just sat there next to the fire, hugging her knees.  She looked upset and scared and…hurt.  That's what got me.  As much as Connie and I may argue and fight and insult each other, and even though things between us are long over; I still keep an eye on her.  Partly out of habit, because it's what I've always done; and partly because she's a Duck, and you don't mess with the Ducks.  Not if you don't want a hell of a lot of trouble.

    Adam saw it too, that look, and we quickly rounded up the rest of the guys.  Luis somehow managed to pull Nicole away from Keith so we could "talk" to him; she didn't protest much.  She'd had a lot to drink and I think she might have screwed anyone at that point.  He quickly dropped her off with a couple of freshman, still no protests, and joined us again.

    "What d'ya want, Ducks?" He asked, saying our name as if it were an insult, his speech slurred, his eyes visibly sliding in and out of focus.

    "Having fun?" Portman asked coldly.

    "What's it to you?" he sneered.

    "What do you think you're doing to Connie?" Fulton growled, stepping closer to Keith.  Keith stumbled backward over some rocks and fell, grabbing onto Fulton's shirt and nearly taking him down with him.  

    "Who?" Keith mumbled, trying to get his bearings and get back on his feet.  Several of us lunged for him, but Fulton got to him first, grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against a tree.  Several of Keith's very drunk friends spotted this and stumbled over, but before anyone could do anything, we all heard a voice behind us.

    "Don't!"

    We all turned to see Connie standing behind us, eyes teary and red, with Julie next to her, holding Connie's arm, a worried look on her face.

    "He's not worth it.  Don't." She repeated.

    Keith, being the jackass he is, took this opportunity, with us all staring at Connie, to deck Fulton in the stomach.  Fulton doubled over, not expecting the blow and barreled into Keith, knocking him down.  Suddenly everyone leapt into action.   Connie turned from the group and ran into the woods towards school, leaving Julie behind.  I headed toward that moron Keith, but one of his friends got in my way and tried to knock me down.  Not smart.  As much as we try to play Duck hockey, we have gotten into our fair share of fights and are pretty well practiced in that art.  Plus, he was drunk off his ass and not in any shape to be doing anything physical.  I shoved him aside and kept going.  After going through a few more guys and taking a couple hits, I got to Keith , who was having a hard time fighting off Fulton and Portman.  I pushed through them, saying, "Move."  They both stared at me for a moment, but stepped back.

    At that moment, I heard someone behind me scream.  I quickly turned and Keith took his second cheap shot of the night and nailed me in the back of the head.  I stumbled forward and he kicked my side as I landed on the ground.  Bastard.  I pulled myself up and threw two good punches; one in his face and one in his stomach.  At this point, the screams grew louder and suddenly we could hear sirens.  Somebody had called the cops on us.

    The fight quickly broke itself up as we scrambled out of the pile.  Someone shoved several bottles of alcohol in my hands.

    "Take them!" someone hissed.  "If they find these back here, the Dean'll hear about it!"

    So I took them and ran.  I somehow managed to locate my backpack in the chaos and stuffed the bottles in it.  I quickly scanned the crowd for my friends; I couldn't see them anywhere.  I paused a moment, wondering what I should do.  Most of us had come in Adam's car, since it held the most people and he wasn't likely to spend the entire party getting drunk.  He also had the keys to our dorm room; since we were roommates and he was driving, I'd left my keys there.  But at this point, I didn't have much time to worry.  The police sirens were sounding closer and I could barely make out flashing lights through the trees.

    I sprinted into the trees the opposite way and towards campus.  Luckily I hadn't had too much to drink yet, unlike most of the poor kids back at the clearing, but I found myself stumbling over rocks and branches a bit.  I wandered through the woods for a while, staying off the paths in case the cops came down them.  Once the Eden Hall campus came into view, I stopped and sat on a rock to ease the stitch in my side and figure out what I was gonna do next.  I pulled out a mostly full bottle of Jack Daniels from my backpack.  I grimaced.  Some of the rich preppies had terrible taste in alcohol.  But I drank it anyway as I considered my options.

    I couldn't get into my dorm room, since Adam had the keys.  I could get into the building, since the doors were unlocked until midnight and camp out outside my door, but if a dorm supervisor came around and found the alcohol in the bag, I'd be busted big time.  I knew my options were pretty few, but I had to do something fast; I was getting cold wearing just a t-shirt and I was quickly starting to feel the effects of good ol' Jack.

    So somehow I find myself outside Connie's door.  She lives in the same building and she was the only one of the Ducks who might possibly be in her room right now.  Adam's car wasn't in the dorm parking lot; neither was Dwayne's, so I didn't know if any of the other Ducks had made it back yet.  I know Connie left the party when the fight broke out; I just hoped she had decided to come back to school.

    I knock quickly, hoping she'd answer, and checked up and down the hallway for signs of a supervisor.  I was getting to the point where I was having some trouble seeing straight, so I knew if I ran into one, I'd be in major trouble and probably be expelled.  And as much fun as that might be…

    Luckily the door opened fairly quickly.  Connie peaked her head around the door, her hair a mess, her eyes bloodshot and red from crying, and a quizzical look on her face.

    "What are you doing here?" she asked, sniffling.  "I thought you'd be at the party."

    "Police came." I told her.  "Can I come in?" I asked.  "Adam's got the keys to our room, so I can get in.  And I think I just had a little too much to drink to go ask someone for the spare key."

    Connie smiled a little.  "You do look a bit rough around the edges." She told me and opened the door wider so I could come in.  As I walked into the small room she shared with Julie, the bottles in my backpack clinked together and she looked at me curiously.

    "We had to grab and run." I explained, opening my bag to reveal several beer bottles, a six pack of Red Bull and a monster size bottle of vodka.  "You want some?" I asked.

    Connie nodded and grabbed a bottle of beer from the pile.  I grabbed one myself and settled on the floor, facing the small TV playing 'The Wedding Singer,' her favorite movie.  I drank my beer slowly, still feeling wonky from the bottle of Jack I'd downed earlier, but Connie finished hers quickly.

    "How're you feeling?" I asked tentatively.

    She paused, thinking, eyes still red.  "Like I haven't had enough to drink." She answered and reached for another beer.

    I waited a few minutes, wondering what to say next.  "Really, though." I finally said.  "Are you doing okay?"

    Connie stared at her beer bottle for several minutes until I gave up hope that she would answer.

    "I dunno." She said quietly, startling the hell out of me and causing me to spill the last of my beer on the floor.  "It's not like I thought I'd be with him forever.  I was even thinking of ending it with him myself.  But it just hurts…"

    "That he'd do that to you.  That he'd go behind your back like that." I finished for her, knowing exactly how she felt.  Sophomore year I had started dating a girl named Katie, only to find out she was cheating on some other guy with me.  I can't even describe how that felt, finding that out.  She really fucked me up.  I've got some serious trust issues now, which is part of the reason I haven't dated anyone seriously in a while.  I never told any of the Ducks that, not even Connie or Adam.  

    "Exactly." Connie agreed, draining the last of her bottle and grabbing the last beer.  "Love sucks." She stated, echoing my thoughts exactly.  She stared at the movie playing for a moment and then belted out "Love stinks!" singing along with Adam Sandler's character.

    "Jeez, Connie, do you want to get us caught?" I hissed at her.  "What if a dorm supervisor hears?"  I tried to shut her up as she continued to sing at the top of her lungs.  I tried to listen during the pauses in her song for footsteps coming down the hall but I couldn't hear a thing.  Just when I think we may be in the clear, a sharp rap comes through the door.

    "Miss Moreau?  Miss Gaffney?"  A deep female voice echoed from the other side of the door.  I recognized it as Old Lady Kruchten, the sadistic, Femi-Nazi chemistry teacher.  

    "Here!" hissed Connie, shoving me onto her bed and behind her giant body pillow.  I heard her shove my backpack under the bed and a key turn in the lock.  Connie leapt onto her bed and leaned against the pillow, squashing me between her pillow and the wall.  

    "Miss Moreau?  What was that racket?"  I held my breath as I hear Kruchten's voice.

    Connie sniffed dramatically.  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Kruchten." She said quietly.  "I just got caught up in the song…I just found out my boyfriend's been cheating on me, and…" She broke off into a fake sob.

    Luckily, Kruchten bought the whole thing and left, but only after giving Connie a five minute lecture on why guys should never be trusted with anything more than a toothbrush.  As the door closed, I relaxed against the wall and let out the giant breath I'd been holding.  Connie's face appeared over the pillow, close to mine.  I looked at her for a moment, her brown eyes staring intently back at me.  

    "Nice acting." I told her.  "And thanks for squashing me." I added, shoving the pillow at her.

    "My finest performance." She sniffed dramatically again, placing the back of her hand to her forehead for added effect.  "What else have you got?" She asked, abandoning acting in favor of alcohol.  She bounced off the bed and pulled my bag out from under it.

    "Ooh…Red Bull and vodka!" she exclaimed, grabbing two giant glasses from the top of the mini-fridge. 

    If it were anyone else but Connie acting like that, I'd be a little worried.  But Connie has always had this habit of ignoring whatever bad stuff is going on in her life and holding it all in until she cracks.  She's great at faking like there's nothing bothering her.  She can even fool most of the Ducks.  But not me; I know her too well.  But I'm not going to bother her about Keith; Julie can do that tomorrow.  Right now it's just my job to make sure she really keeps her mind off that jerk.  

    "What are you thinking about?" she asked me, pouring vodka into a glass.  Damn, she's always been able to tell when there's something on my mind.

    "None for me." I told her, stalling for an answer.  She looked questioningly at me and I answer her unasked question.  "I had a bit too much of that and I haven't been able to drink it since."

    "When was this?" She asked, reaching over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of orange juice.  I nodded, and she added that to the vodka in my glass.

    "Last spring."  I didn't add that this was at the ridiculous after-Prom party Keith held at his parents' house while they were out of town.  I also didn't mention that the excessive amount of Red Bull and vodka I'd consumed led to me ditch my date and spend several hours making out with a senior whose name I'm still unsure of, although it may have been Maggie.  Not that Connie would care; she and Keith had disappeared very early on during the party and weren't heard from again until the next day.  

    Connie looked at me strangely.  "How come I didn't know about this?"

    "You don't know everything that goes on in my life." I told her.  I don't know why she's so surprised; it goes both ways.  Despite the fact that we can be good friends when we want to be, I don't share everything with her, especially stuff that deals with the opposite sex.  I don't expect her to either.

    "Yeah, right." She smirked at me, reaching over to her desk to grab a deck of cards.  "Poker?" she asks.

    "You don't know as much as you think you do." I told her, but I agree to poker; it's our typical drinking game because it's highly amusing to attempt to play poker while you're drunk.  Plus we didn't have enough people for Fuck the Dealer or Bullshit.  However, Connie may have quite an advantage this time, since I've been feeling the effects of my encounter with Jack Daniels for a while.

    "I bet I know more than you think." She grinned at me, dealing the first hand.

    Two hours later, we're both on our fourth monster-sized drinks and still arguing over how well we know each other.  Well, it started out as an argument and eventually turned into a quizzing session.  We started with the easy, obvious stuff, like our favorite movies and crap like that and now progressed to the more serious, much deeper stuff, abandoning our card game in favor of the tension of hoping the other will trip up somewhere along the line.  But I must admit, I'm pretty impressed; we do know each other very well.

    "Okay…worst hockey moment." Connie suggested, munching on some potato chips.  "I know yours."  Of course she does, everyone does.  "When you got slammed into the wall freshman year and ended up not being able to play in the game against Brighton."  And, of course, she was right.  But I had only bitched about not being able to play in that game for a month and a half afterward.  It was a brutal game too.  Brighton was a prep school whose kids were more stuck up than the kids at Eden Hall, if that was possible.  Not to mention a good number of the Hawks from pee wees were on the hockey team at Brighton and several of them still wanted revenge.  It was without a doubt the fastest, most furious game of the year and I couldn't play.  Damn Varsity for screwing that up for me.

    "Right." I conceded to Connie.  "And yours would be in third grade when Kevin Mitchell told you that girls couldn't play hockey."  I still remember the look on her face when he said that.  Up until then, no one had ever told Connie that she couldn't do what the boys could.  And I don't think anyone has since.  Connie shoved him down onto the ice hard and took off for the other end of the pond where she took off her skates and started to walk home.  We all watched in silence, except for Kevin.  "Good riddance." He said, brushing ice off his gloves.  We had all known that Kevin was a moron since the second week of kindergarten, so we had no problem harassing him on and off the ice after that.  A week and a half later, he quit, leaving room for a new player and we all knew who that would be.

    "Yeah…" Connie's voice broke through my thoughts.  "Did I ever thank you guys for getting him to quit the team?"  

    "Plenty of times.  But I don't think it would hurt to thank me again…" I laughed and ducked as Connie threw a chip at me.  I thought about throwing it back, but knew that was a dangerous idea.  Connie liked to chuck stuff at people, especially food, and that impulse was magnified several times when she was drunk.  

    "Okay…my turn." I told her.  I quickly ran through ideas in my head, trying to find one that I knew about her but she wouldn't know about me.

    "The biggest fight you've ever had with a family member." I said and immediately regretted it.  I knew Connie wouldn't know mine, but there was a good reason for that and I didn't really want her to know.  She raised her eyebrows at me and I knew I couldn't change the topic without having to tell her why.  

    "Yours was when your parents didn't want you to come to Eden Hall." I told her and she slowly nodded.  Connie's overprotective parents had tolerated her playing hockey for years, provided she didn't get hurt and kept up with school and all that good stuff.  They had been reluctant to let her go to Los Angeles for the Goodwill Games, but after the persistent nagging of numerous twelve-year-old hockey players, plus their coach, Connie's parents had finally given in to that.  But when we all got word about our scholarship offers to Eden Hall to play hockey, Connie's parents had finally had it and had forbidden her to go.  The Ducks pulled out all the stops trying to convince her parents otherwise, no one wanting to play without Connie, least of all me.  We spent hours at Connie's house persuading, begging, and pleading with her parents to let her go.  But in the end, all it took was Connie mentioning that she would have a better chance at getting a college scholarship if she did well at a prep school like Eden Hall as compared to a public school.

    "Okay, now yours…" Connie looked at me intently, as if trying to read my mind.  I sincerely hoped she couldn't.  At this point I was seriously regretting picking this stupid subject.  I didn't want Connie to know, but I knew I couldn't lie to her about this.  One, I hate lying; and two, Connie can always see through me when I do.  So no matter what I tried now, I was stuck.

    So was Connie.  After about five straight minutes of staring at me, which made me feel very uncomfortable, she sighed.  "I dunno." She said, shaking her head.  "I have absolutely no idea."

    I smiled and kept quiet, hoping if I didn't say anything, she'd let it go.

    "So?" 

    "So what?" I responded, playing dumb.

    Connie glared at me.  "You are so bad at playing dumb." She told me.  Ouch.

    "Fine."  It was my turn to sigh; there was no way out of this one.  

    "I got into a fight with my dad about you." I said quickly, getting it over with.

    "What?"

    "I got into a fight with my dad about you." I repeated slower.  

    "What happened?  When was this?" She asked, confused.  "Why didn't I know about this?"

    I put my head in my hands and rubbed my forehead.  My drink was gone and I was quickly sobering up and knew that this was headed nowhere good.  I sighed again and looked back at Connie.

    "I got into a fight with my dad over how much time we'd been spending together.  He told me it wasn't healthy to date only one person for the rest of my life and that I should start seeing other people and a bunch of junk like that.  The only reason he said anything was 'cause my bitch of a step-mother Catherine put him up to it.  He'd never had a problem before that."

    "When was this?" Connie asked quietly.

     I paused.  "Right before we started here." I told her.  Two days before you broke up with me, I thought, but I knew I didn't need to tell her that.

    "I told Dad and Catherine that I would date whoever I wanted and if they didn't like the way I was running my life, they could get out of it." I finished, staring at the empty glass in front of me.

    The next thing I know, Connie is hanging around my neck, bawling her eyes out, and I have no idea what's going on, as usual.

    "Connie?" I ventured as I shrug my shoulders, trying to keep her from strangling me.

    "I'm so so sorry!"  She sobbed into my shoulder.

    "For what?" I asked, confused.  "It's not your fault my step-mom is a raging nutcase.

    Connie let go of my neck and pulled away, taking deep breaths and trying to calm herself.  Then she looked at me with her "I know you're not gonna like this but it's not my fault" look.  The same look she gave me when we broke up.

    "What?" I asked.

    "The fight I had with my parents about Eden Hall…" she paused.  "You don't know the whole story."

    "Okay…" I said slowly, imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios in my head.

    "Even though I told them all about the better chance at colleges and stuff like that, it took more than that to convince my parents to let me come here.  I had to prove to them I was serious about school and that I really could get a college scholarship.  They want me to go to school in Pennsylvania like my mom and become a nurse."

    "Okay…" I repeated, not sure where Connie was going with this story.

    "That's why I broke up with you." She said quickly, her eyes to the floor.  "I had to prove to my parents I was serious.  Plus I hated the idea of having to lose you after high school, so I thought it was best to end it then.  I thought I could ignore you or pretend you weren't there."

    Connie looked up and a furious expression crossed her face when she saw I was trying not to laugh.  "What?!"

    "I'm sorry, Connie," I said, laughing, "but do you know how stupid that sounds?  You didn't want to have to leave me, so you broke up with me?"

    "Shut up!" She cried, punching me in the shoulder.  Then her face softened.  "Yeah, it was pretty dumb." she admitted.  She scooted over and sat next to me on the floor, both our backs leaning against her bed.

    "What were you thinking?" I asked her, still laughing.  "Ignore me?  Connie, we're on the same team.  We take the same classes.  How were you going to ignore me?"

    "I dunno." She laughed.  "I tried though, for a little while, remember?"

    Of course I remembered.  She spent the first full week of school freshman year completely ignoring me, especially when I tried to talk to her.  Although, I'll admit, I preferred that to the blatant hostility she gave me during the second and third weeks.  

    "And you wouldn't leave me alone!" Connie continued.

    "Yeah." I remembered, leaning back and resting my head on the side of Connie's bed.  "But at least you quit trying after a while."

    "Kind of."  Connie admitted.  "I was still trying for a while, but not the same way.  That's why I went out with Tim and Chris and Jason freshman year…I was hoping one of them would help me forget about you."

    "Did it work?" I asked, remembering her string of moronic exes.  Poor Connie; none of her recent boyfriends had turned out to be anything resembling decent guys.  Tim ended up cheating on some other girl with Connie, Chris was only after her for sex, and Jason was a druggie who ended up dropping out of school.  

    "Nope." Connie shook her head and turned to look at me.  "Not even Keith made me forget about you."

    "How are you feeling?" I asked her tentatively.

    "Eh…" She grinned and downed the last of her drink.  I laughed and shook my head; Connie was always good at pretending nothing was wrong.  I glanced back at her and noticed her staring at me strangely.

    "Turn around." She told me.

    "What?"

    "Guy, turn around." She repeated, forcing my head the other way.  "Christ, Guy, you're bleeding."  She told me, holding my head still.

    "Huh?"

    "Geez, Guy.  You've got a massive gash back here."  She said as she pushed my hair around.  "It's mostly stopped bleeding, but wow, this thing is huge.  And part of your hair is all bloody.  What happened?"  She asked me, finally letting me turn around to face her.

    I thought back.  What had happened tonight?  I felt the back of my head.  Sure enough, on the back of my head was blood, just like Connie said, and suddenly it came to me.  Keith. 

    "That bastard…" I muttered, looking at the small amount of blood on my fingers.  I got up and rinsed them in the sink, trying to get a look at the back of my head in the mirror.

    "Guy, tell me you didn't…" Connie looked at me from where she had perched on her bed.  I pushed a wad of tissues against the back of my head, trying to stop the last of the bleeding.  

    "I didn't start it."  I told her, knowing that wasn't what she was looking for.

    "God, Guy, I don't need you running around fighting all my battles for me!"

    I decided to let that one go.  Connie knows as well as the rest of us that you don't mess with a Duck, and if you do, you'll have the rest of us on your case.  She also knows that we tend to watch out for her and Julie the most, not because they're girls, but because they always get the most crap from people.  Despite the fact that most of Eden Hall can be cool, there are still some Neanderthals who still think girls can't play sports and love to hassle them about it.  We try to let the girls handle it, cause they like their independence, but sometimes us guys have to get involved.

    "I know."  I told her, tossing the tissues in the trash can and walking over to stand next to her.  "But none of us like to see you hurt."

    She looked up at me for a moment, with an expression I didn't recognize.  I didn't have time to figure it out though, because suddenly she was kissing me.  I'd almost forgotten how much I loved having her face so close to mine or how good her hair smells.  But I pushed those thoughts aside as she pulled me onto the bed next to her.

    "I miss you." Connie told me later on, her head resting on my arm which was falling asleep.  But at the moment, I didn't care.

    "I do, I really miss you."  She continued, looking up at me.  "It's so weird.  You've been my best friend since I was, like, two and you've always known everything about me.  Then we break up and I feel like I can even talk to you anymore."

    I nodded.  Even though I didn't say anything, I knew exactly what she meant.  Connie and her parents moved onto my street when we were both two, so we've been friends for ages.  Even when we were little, she was always right there.  When I was five and my mom left me and my dad to go off and become an actress or a model or whatever it was she wanted to do with her life, Connie made me a mud pie.  When we all went through our "girls are icky' or "boys have cooties" phases at school, Connie and I would join our respective sides at school, but after school we'd be at one of our houses playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Robin Hood.  As we grew older, I knew that just about whatever was going on in my life, I could talk to Connie about it.  We talked about how much our hockey coaches sucked, or what it would feel like to score a goal against a real goalie, not just Goldberg.  Even after we started going out, Connie was still my best friend.  We talked about how cool it would be to play in front of thousands of people and how much we hated Coach Bombay turning into Captain Blood on a regular basis.  The school year and summer between the Junior Goodwill Games and our entrance to Eden Hall was no different.

    But the few weeks between finding out about our scholarships and starting at the school was difficult.  I hated not telling Connie about my argument with Dad; I know she could tell something was wrong, she always can.  And then, three days before school started, she dropped the bomb on me.  After that, I didn't know what to do.  The first few weeks of school were hell, just dealing with the Varsity team and our new coach and a new school…never mind I didn't have my best friend to talk to about it.  

    "Guy?"  Connie had veered off on to a new topic.  "What are you doing after we leave?"

    "After we graduate?"  She nodded.

    "I'm not really sure." I paused, thinking.  "Probably try out for Juniors or the NHL or something.  I know Orion's got scouts coming around to look at us this season.  They'll definitely want Adam and maybe Charlie or Fulton, but I don't know.  It'd be cool to see how far I could get playing hockey."  

    "Do you want to play hockey for the rest of your life?" Connie asked me.

    I glared at her.  She already knew that answer.  "Of course I do.  At least right now.  I love the idea of getting up everyday and getting paid to do the most fun thing I've ever done in my life."  Connie raised an eyebrow at me.

    "You know what I mean." I shoved her gently.  "But yeah, I'd love to play hockey as a career.  But who knows.  I may end up getting there and then hating it for one reason or another."

    "Then what?" Connie asked.  "The last time I asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up, you were seven and you wanted to be the Karate Kid."  I laughed at that.  I remembered tying one of my dad's ties around my head and running around in my pajamas, beating up imaginary bad guys.

    "Considering I've never taken a karate lesson in my life, I'd be a terrible Karate Kid.  I don't like science or business or law or any of that.  I think I could probably end up being a teacher though, English or history or maybe drama."  Connie looked surprised at that.  "I like teaching people things." I continued.  "Besides, I could end up being a teacher and a hockey coach.  That'd be fun.  But I'd still much rather play hockey.  I'm just kinda scared I won't make it."  I stopped there; I'd never even admitted that to myself, let alone any of the Ducks.

    "Why?" Connie looked up at me curiously.

    "It just seems like everyone else has so much more going for them.  Adam's the star player, Charlie's the captain and he's got his famous Triple Deke, Fulton's got a slap shot that could break your hand.  Luis has got his speed, Ken can outskate anyone-"

    "Ken doesn't have great puck handling skills."  Connie interrupted me.  "Luis can't stop, Fulton can still only hit one out of five, Charlie's got a temper and is one of the most erratic players I've ever seen, and Adam's got this annoying habit of always getting injured.  Everyone's got their faults.  Besides, even with everyone's great skills, you're still one of the best players on the team.  You can skate, you know how to handle the puck and you don't get carried away out there."

    I grinned at Connie; it was good to know she still believed I wasn't a total hack.  Still grinning, I leaned over and kissed her.

    After a few minutes, I pulled back and asked her, "What about you?"

    "What about me?" She asked back, resting her head back on my arm.  

    "What are you going to do?  I know you don't want to be a nurse."  I paused and looked down at her.  "Do you?"

    "No way.  I wouldn't mind going into some sort of medicine, but I don't want to be a nurse.  I refuse to work the same crazy hours my mother has to.  I thought about sports medicine or physical therapy, but I don't really know yet."

    "What are you going to tell you parents?" I asked, remembering our conversation earlier.

    "Well, knowing my parents, they won't give in on the Pennsylvania thing, but I figure once I'm there, I can change my major and there's nothing they can do about it."

    "What about hockey?"

    She sighed audibly.  "I don't know."  She said shifting position and looking at me.  "It's so not fair.  I love hockey, but no colleges have girls' teams and they won't let a girl on a guys' team.  I don't want to play hockey for the rest of my life, but I'd like to keep playing because it's so much fun."  She pouted a little.

    "I'm sure there are some colleges that have girls' teams." I offer, hoping she won't notice that I have no idea what I'm talking about.  "You could still play hockey.  You could tryout for the national team, you could even go to the Olympics!"

    Connie just shook her head.  "I know I may be able to find something," she said after a bit, "but it won't be the same.  And it won't be what I want, y'know?"

    "So what do you want?" I asked, starting to get confused.

    "Honestly," she grinned at me, "I have absolutely no idea."  She started laughing manically.

    "Connie!" She couldn't have been anymore loud if she had wanted to.  I thought about smothering her with a pillow, but I didn't want to kill her.  "Connie, shhh…" I tried to get her to quiet down, but I felt myself starting to crack.  Before I knew it, we were both rolling on the floor, laughing at absolutely nothing and very close to getting busted by a supervisor.  The last thing I wanted was another close encounter with Kruchten, but it seemed I couldn't stop laughing if my life had depended on it.  

    When we both finally calmed down, we lay on the floor, clutching our sides and gasping for breath.  Until Julie's alarm clock, which is the equivalent of a sonic boom and set for 7:30 in the morning, went off, which scared the shit out of us and then set us off laughing again.  I guess after sloppy break ups, God-knows how many drinks, several hours of playing "I know you better" and everything else that happened, we were wired and slightly crazy.  Ah, who am I kidding, we're completely crazy.

    I watched Connie beat the stuffing out of the alarm, which was highly amusing.  "Is it really 7:30?" I asked, feeling slightly disoriented.  Connie looked at her own clock and nodded.

    "I'd better go; Adam should be back to our room by now."  I looked at Connie, she grinned back.  "Yeah, Julie'll probably be back soon." She told me, tossing me my shirt.  I somehow located my jeans and tennis shoes in the mess of cards, bottles, glasses and other random crap on the floor.  "I'll clean it up later." Connie assured me.  I nodded and pulled on my jeans; I didn't feel like dealing with the shoes.

    "So…" I said, pulling Connie close to me.

    "So." She replied, leaning in to kiss me.  Instead, she poked me in the forehead and grinned at me.  Then she shoved me out the door.  I swear, that girl is bipolar.  I could hear her bouncing around her room, singing "Love Stinks."  Her neighbors were going to kill her.

    I walked down the hall and up the stairs to my room in my socks, shoes in hand.  I wasn't exactly sure what had happened.  I mean, I knew exactly what had happened; hell, I'd been waiting years for it, probably for as long as I've known Connie.  But what it all meant, I had no idea.  I didn't know if this meant we were back together again or if we'd both just chock it up to momentary lapses of sanity.  But at this point, I didn't really think it mattered.


End file.
